


Princess

by maybege



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, soft!Din
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybege/pseuds/maybege
Summary: After having travelled with the Mandalorian for weeks, you finally land on Sorgan, your new “sanctuary”. In order to protect the child, Din gets a job in some village in the middle of nowhere. Too shy to voice your feelings for the bounty hunter you are forced to see the growing connection between him and the beautiful widow.  (Basically, my take on Episode 4 “The Sanctuary” with a reader and a little love triangle thrown in for good measure.)
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 52
Kudos: 378





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> The little love triangle between Omera/Din/Reader was inspired by @dindjarindiaries work “Everything I Wanted” (on tumblr). Please check out her story and leave her some love because it is honestly one of the best pieces of writing out there!   
> The second part will be out next weekend. As always, feedback, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, so don’t be shy!

“I like him. He’s making you soft.”

“I’m not _soft_.”

“You’re calling him a little womp rat, that’s a pet name. Pet names are soft.”

“Shut up and let me land the ship,” he did not sound annoyed, more amused, really, as he initiated the landing sequence on the Razor Crest, “How’s your head?”

With a sigh, you leant back in the co-pilot’s chair. You had only barely escaped the guild on Nevarro a few days before and even though you had not physically fought (you were not able to land a punch for your life) the battle and subsequent escape had taken its toll on you. A horrible migraine had manifested itself in your skull, a sign that you had been under too much stress which was ironic, considering that you had been living with _a kriffing bounty hunter_ for weeks now.

Thankfully, you had been able to function these past few days – the pain sometimes being more endurable and sometimes being gut-wrenching – but today, oh today was definitely the peak in your suffering, or at least you hoped it was.

“Worse.”

The Mandalorian hummed and flicked a switch somewhere. “Lie down, princess,” he turned in his seat, the child on his lap, and looked at you, “I’ll check out the planet on my own, the womp rat can stay here with you.”

You did as he said without much protest. Talking would only make it worse now, best to get into silence and darkness and sleep it off. The Razor Crest was still in the air when you found your way to your bunk. With a breath of relief, you pulled your boots off and slipped under the blankets. From somewhere you found your sleep shirt and folded it above your eyes, hoping that the added darkness would help to ease the pain a little.

You had refused the bacta spray Din had wanted to waste on you when the pain had first started. By that point, it had been clear as day that the green toddler – the little womp rat according to Din – had put you on the map for some very unfriendly people. There would be enough instances in the future where the bacta spray would be needed for something more severe than your migraine.

Still, your head was pounding so much that even the low rumble of the spaceship around you hurt your ears and eyes. You started to doze away, only noticing that the Crest had landed in a daze. Din was walking around, preparing to leave the ship and you heard him give a speech to the little one up in the cockpit. You smiled to yourself. He would not admit it yet but he had grown soft on the child and you loved to see it.

When he had prepared everything, you felt his glove on your hair.

“I’m leaving, princess,” he whispered, “the child is up in the cockpit and I told him to stay there. If you need anything just use the commlink, alright?”

Your eyes remained closed as you hummed your understanding. The hand on your head left and you heard as the ramp was opened. The womp rat evidently did not agree with what the armoured man had decided. As soon as the ramp opened you heard the Mandalorian scold the child as it was standing next to him and even through your pain, you could not help the chuckle that left your lips before sleep took you again. If you were going to stay here for another few weeks, as Din had planned, that would still leave plenty of time for you to explore this new world.

For now, you just wanted to bury yourself under the blanket and see and hear nothing.

*

When you opened your eyes next, it was dark outside.

The ramp was open again and noises were coming from outside. Sleep had left you and it took you a moment to gather your thoughts. You had landed on some backwater planet called Sorgan, you remembered. But the migraine that had pained you for so long had only gotten worse so you slept for most of the day on the ship, leaving Din to check out the place. The child had also gone with him.

Sitting up you felt the additional blankets around you. On a create next to your bunk stood a bowl of what smelled like cold soup. Your heart warmed at the sight. This was Din’s doing, it had to be, and to see the way he cared about you made the butterflies in your stomach flutter around like a hurricane. He always took care of you whether you had asked him to or not, not really acknowledging his acts of kindness but never ceasing them either.

That’s why you loved him. You just needed to figure out if you ever wanted to tell him.

This was the moment your body decided to remember that you had not eaten anything today and nothing in this moment sounded better than cold soup. You slurped on the cold liquid, some sort of broth, and it was the most delicious thing you had ever tasted. When the broth was finished you allowed yourself to stand up, wandering around the ship in your blanket until you finally spotted the bounty hunter in the cargo hold.

“Din? What is going on?”

Telling you his name was an accident. He had been shot, badly, and a concussion was certainly in the realm of possibilities when he had started to mumble unintelligible things under his breath. It had been the first time you had ever administered a bacta shot and the thought of it still made your hands shake. But the Mandalorian had trusted you and in his haze, he had gripped your hand and asked you to call him by his name – _Din Djarin_. You had been pretty sure that it had been unintentional on his part, that he had not really meant to entrust this to you. But his name on your lips was like a drug and you stayed with him the whole night, whispering soothing words and his name – always his name – under your breath until you were sure that he would survive. When you had called him by his name the next morning, he had not corrected you and he had not asked you to stop since.

So now, as you had called for his attention, you wrapped the blanket around you and approached him. He seemed to be packing away most of your stuff and through the open ramp, you could see two young men you did not recognise loading up a vehicle with your belongings. They looked so very out of place next to the beskar-clad bounty hunter and you suspected they might be farmers of some sort. Behind them stood a woman who decidedly did _not_ look like a farmer.

You did not recognize her but she looked like she belonged to Din more than to the soldiers. Her hair was short and her arms crossed in front of her chest, she did not look like someone to mess with. And was that … was that some kind of armour that she was wearing? For a planet that barely held any population, she seemed suspiciously like Din. However, he did not seem to mind her presence which only confused you more. What had you missed out on these past few hours?

“We have a job.”

“And who is she?”

“Cara Dune, she will help us.”

You could only nod, sleep still in your eyes as you watched them loading up the little vehicle. The two young men did not really talk but they seemed keen on getting you back to wherever they had come from. The child was standing on the floor, dwarfed by a bush that was growing next to it, and cooed up at Din as he passed him. With a smile, you watched as he audibly sighed and then lifted the child into the back of the vehicle. Once the child was loaded up into the bed of the vehicle, only its little ears peeking out, Cara hauled herself onto there as well.

Din turned around and by now you had learned how to decipher his facial expressions even when he was wearing his helmet. He tilted his head towards the speeder and you sighed as you made your way towards him.

Only when your feet made contact with the forest floor did you notice that your boots were still missing. You turned around, tired and a little frustrated that had to make your way back to your bunk and put them on. For maker’s sake, you just wanted to _sleep_.

Next to the speeder, Din lifted his hands, your boots magically already in his possession. When had he gotten them from the ship? Were you still so out of it that you had not noticed his disappearance? Not minding the feeling of your feet on the grass, you walked over to the speeder, the blanket still around your shoulders. With a hand on your back, the bounty hunter helped you up before turning around and locking the Razor Crest up.

The two men did not make any attempts to talk to you and you were grateful for it. They informed you that the journey would take the whole night and that you would arrive when the sun was already up so you might as well get some rest now. Your group did not have to be told twice.

Cara was the first one falling asleep, her head leaning back and her legs stretched out towards you. The child was next, curled up between you and Din, his eyes did not remain open for long and soon little snores filled the air next to the humming of the speeder. You looked up at Din next to you, unsure if he was still awake. Your body was yearning for sleep but at the same time you worried – you always did.

You wanted to talk to him, to have him calm your nerves as he always did. His no-nonsense attitude to life, his very objective way of seeing things, had helped you more than once in the past. He was a warrior, fearless not only in battle but also in his honesty. If there were any dangers on this mission he would have told you about them, right? But he was not moving, probably already resting, and you did not find it in yourself to risk to wake him.

So, you did the best thing you could: worry over each and every possible outcome. What if this was a trap? What if Din’s trust in Cara was misplaced? What if something would happen to the child and you could not prevent it?

Din shifted next to you, the length of his leg now pressed against yours, “Worried, princess?”

You turned your head towards him, making sure to keep your voice low so the farmers would not hear you, “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“They are as far away from civilization as possible and we’d be able to stretch our legs for a few weeks.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you tried to assure him, “I’m not doubting your skills. I know you’re better than anyone out there. It’s just …”

“Yes?”

But what could you tell him? That the fear in your mind – your fear for him and the child – kept you up and doubting every single decision you had made thus far? It was not even possible for you to pinpoint what _exactly_ was bothering you, the remnant of your migraine still fuzzing up your thought process. So, you just sighed and decided to leave it be, “It’s nothing, forget it. I guess I was just worrying over nothing.”

In the dark, you only heard how he shifted until you felt his gloved hand reach above the child to your shoulder. Even through the leather, you could feel the warmth of his skin (or your imagination was just really vivid).

“I don’t want you to worry,” he replied, “I promise I will keep you safe – both of you.”

“I know you will, Din,” you whispered back and squeezed the hand on your shoulder, “Now get some sleep, I heard the farmers are paying good money for your exquisite skills. Wouldn’t want to disappoint them, now would we?”

He chuckled at your teasing and with the pleasant sound still in your ears you fell asleep again.

*

You arrived at daylight, just as the two men had promised. The sky was incredibly blue as you blinked up at it, not one cloud to see. Caught in the space between sleep and awake, your head was resting on Din’s shoulder. Your position had shifted during the night, you discovered. The child was now solely resting on Din’s lap, eyes already taking in the new sights. Your bodies had shifted closer together and while your head rested on his shoulder pauldron his arm had moved to lay around your shoulders and press you into him. You could feel your cheeks becoming warm as you realized just how close you were. But he made no move to detangle himself from you. Maybe he was still asleep?

“Morning, princess,” he rumbled into your ear and he was definitely not still asleep. He was awake and he had remained like that. Willingly. With you.

You did not have the time to ponder over the fact as the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. A crowd was already forming around you. Cara was the first to stand up, “Seems like they are happy to see us.”

“Seems like it.”

There was a group of children excitedly talking to the child. Ears perked up as it realized that they were happy to see him. A fond smile formed on your lips as you watched how the child was adopted by the local children as one of their own. This could only be a good sign.

Cara helped you down the vehicle and now you had the chance to look around and really take everything in. Your first impression of the village was that it was beautiful. The grass was green, the water blue, lush forests were surrounding the village and while the huts were simple they seemed welcoming. All the villagers were so happy to see you, talking over each other greeting you with big smiles on their faces.

This was a very different experience from what you had encountered these last few days and you relished in the welcome change.

Din was clearly uncomfortable with so much attention so you stuck close to him. Maybe it was just wishful thinking but you liked to believe that your presence eased his mind a little. And apparently, it did. His shoulders dropped and his hand appeared on your back ( _ignore how warm this feels, ignore it, ignore it, kriffing_ ignore _it!_ ) as his visor lowered its gaze to your feet.

“Still without boots?” he asked you.

You grinned and looked at your bare feet in the grass, “I’m embracing my existence as a nymph of the woods now, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, “If you must, princess.”

One of the farmers that had also driven the speeder introduced himself as Stoke and led you to your lodgings. The other farmers went to work on unloading all the crates that Din had taken with you but you did not worry about leaving them alone with your belonging. They did not seem like the types to steal Din’s countless blasters. Hell, they probably did not even know how to handle them.

The village was rather small and it was easy to remember the layout. Wherever you went you could always spot the ponds where they harvested the krill. They made spotchka with it as Stoke explained, although you were not quite sure what spotchka was. Cara got her own hut, somewhere on the edge of the village. She seemed quite content with it and waved at you with a grin.

Stoke turned to you, a small furrow between his brows, “Now will you need separate lodging as well?”

Din’s hand on your back tensed. Before you could answer he had made the decision, “No, she will stay with us.”

The farmer just nodded and led you further through the village. Din’s hand on you burned and you were sure that it was apparent how affected you were by him. Secretly, his decisions had pleased you. You liked being close to him. On the Razor Crest, you had lived in close quarters and you had gotten so used to it, you did not know how to live on your own anymore. Apart from that, you also liked to be close to him. Not for security reasons – although you always did feel safe with him – but because you liked to just be with him. You liked his Maker, you were truly pathetic, weren’t you?

Stoke finally came to a stop in front of what looked like a … a barn? Confused you tilted your head to the side. There was no door but more of a curtain that covered the entrance to your future lodgings. Inside, there was a woman that seemed to be preparing the unconventional space for visitors. She had dark hair that was braided away from her face. She was quite beautiful and her smile shone as she welcomed the two of you.

“I am sorry that this is the only thing we have to offer,” she apologized, “But we are very grateful that you have accepted the job. My name is Omera. If there is anything you should need, please don’t hesitate to ask one of us.”

Din answered something but you were already too busy inspecting your future living quarters. It was simple, yes, but it still felt very homey. Through the weaving of the walls came rays of sunlight that shone a beautiful pattern on the floor. There were two cots on either side of the room and even a small table and a chair. The table stood by a window that overlooked the space between the huts. Children were playing outside, not a worry in the world.

Yes, this could be your home.

As you had finished your little tour, you saw that he was still talking to Omera. As she left with parting words and a smile he looked at her even after she had gone. An uncomfortable feeling spread in your chest. You had never seen him do that before.

Like the adult that you were, you decided to just ignore it. She was beautiful, everyone could see that, and he was entitled to look at beautiful women as much as he desired, was he not? _He is not yours_ , you tried to remind yourself, _no matter how much you want him to be_.

“So, what do you think? Do they pass the test?”

You ignored the teasing undertone in his voice, trying to mask the hurt on your face. “It could be nice here,” you decided with a nod and looked around again.

From outside, you could hear the happy chatter of the children. As if sharing the same thought, both of you went over to the window and spotted the little one playing with a group of children. He seemed incredibly happy and it made your heart fly in your chest.

“He looks so happy,” Din marvelled next to you. If you had not been sure about his feelings for the child before now, this would be the moment where it was abundantly clear that he cared for the child – even though he had yet to acknowledge it.

“How is your head?”

“Better, I think,” you shrugged, “Don’t know what that was about.”

A finger tapped against your temple and you turned around to face him, “You worry too much in that little head of yours.”

“Is …”, your mouth gaped open, “Was that a joke?”

You only heard his chuckle as he left to explore the threat with Cara.

*

You did not really notice the discussion between the villagers and Din. You were not sure what you were supposed to be doing in all this and with your normal occupation – tending to the child and making sure he did not accidentally destroy anything important – gone, you were left to your own devices. Which meant that you could hardly take your eyes off Din, standing broad-shouldered in front of the villagers, saying words you did not hear and looking absolutely gorgeous.

You had never seen his face but you were sure he was beautiful.

The discussion grew more heated and you saw that Cara was getting involved in it as well. But it all came to a stop when Omera started to speak. You could see her eyes fixed on Din, both of them just staring at each other. You felt helpless, seeing how they could barely take their eyes off each other. Had he ever looked at you like that? Would he ever look at you like that or was it too late now?

With a grin Cara slapped her hand on your shoulder and pulled you out of your thoughts, “Ever shot a blaster before?”

*

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Din standing next to Omera. He was teaching her how to handle a blaster. Although from what you could see, she did not need a lot of teaching. All her targets were hit and the approving nods that he gifted her with were more than he had done with the other villagers.

You tried to ignore the little pang of hurt that went through you at seeing him like this. You were not entitled to him spending his every minute with you. He was not yours. Perhaps he was just happy to have a bit of a respite from being stuck with you on the ship for so long?

Still, you had thought that he would be the one to teach you. All these weeks together he had always teased you about it, how you were absolutely useless with a weapon – a true princess. You had always rolled your eyes at him, not wanting to admit that the thought oddly pleased you. No matter how rough he was around the edges you were sure that he was a good teacher. And he was. Just not for you.

Instead, it was Cara whose task it was now to show you the works of a blaster. You liked the woman. She was rough around the edges, much like the bounty hunter, but she was funny and soft – also very much like the bounty hunter. The difference was that you were not hopelessly in love with her and it enabled you to completely relax around her. She was like a friend and you found that you liked it – the camaraderie between women.

The weapon was heavy in your arms and you could already feel how your arms began to tire. You were training the blaster onto one of the targets, trying to remember the different steps Cara had shown you only moments before.

The dark-haired ex-soldier was standing next to you, arms crossed, as she scrutinized your posture, and adjusted your stance by tapping her foot against your ankle. “Why does he call you that?”

“Call me what?”

“Princess.”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you tried to focus your eyes on the pot that was hanging a few feet away from you. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you pulled the trigger but the makeshift target did not move at all. You had missed by miles. You sighed defeatedly and lowered the weapon again, wondering if you would ever learn how to properly shoot a target. Preferably _before_ the raiders came to your little village, guns blazing.

“Because she looked like a princess in her twirling skirts floating around the market as if there wasn’t a kriffing bounty on her head.”

Din suddenly appeared from behind you, hands on his belt, casually standing beside Cara. You could hear the fondness in his voice and turned around with a smile. It was one of your favourite memories, how the bounty hunter had suddenly appeared behind you, grasping you by the upper arm and decided that he would not turn you in. That he would _take_ you in.

“I didn’t _know_ there was a bounty on my head,” you tried to defend yourself.

“Doesn’t matter. Still looked like a princess.”

He sounded so serious all of a sudden and his words held that much more weight thanks to it. Your cheeks felt treacherously warm and you averted your gaze to the floor, the Mandalorian being too intense.

Cara did not say anything but she looked like she knew exactly what was going on with you which did not help one bit. Not when you had seen how proud he had looked at Omera, how pleased he had been with her skills while you were standing here missing shot after shot.

“I will take it from here, Cara. Caben and Stoke look like they need some more pointers.”

Cara only smirked and nodded her goodbye before walking to the two farmers who were desperately trying to figure out how to properly handle the blasters in their hands. You recognized them as the ones that had first brought you here and even though it did not help in the preparation of the village, you were glad to see that you were not the only one that struggled with the unfamiliar weapons.

That left you alone with Din. Why did that make so nervous? Probably because you would not be able to take his harsh judgment once he figured out how miserable you were at all this. Because you did not want to disappoint him.

“I am not very good at it, I’m afraid,” you shrugged your shoulders, eyes on the weapon in your hands.

“Don’t need to be good,” he replied gruffly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “You only need to survive. Show me how you shoot.”

You assumed the position that Cara had shown you.

“Stop right there.”

Immediately, you froze in your position, muscles locking up. You had not even pulled the trigger yet and already the Mandalorian had found something you did wrong. You took a steadying breath, trying to reign in your feelings of embarrassment, disappointment and just general anxiety. This was Din you were talking about. He would not think less of you for not knowing something you had never learned. That was not the type of man he was. So why did that thought not calm you?

He moved behind you and you were acutely aware of how his chest was pressing up against your back. The closeness made you dizzy and you tried to tighten your grip on the blaster, your arms screaming in protest. Maker, what was going on? Why couldn’t you just get a grip?

His hand adjusted your elbows from behind but once he was happy with your grip he did not move away. Instead, he took hold of your hips and stayed like this. It was like his body was moulded perfectly against yours, his touch igniting a flame in your stomach you were not yet ready to acknowledge. How did this not affect him?

“Shoot,” he instructed, “The kickback will be stronger this time but I got you, alright?”

Not trusting yourself to speak you only nodded and pulled the trigger. Din was right; the kickback _was_ much stronger. Had it not been for him you would have stumbled back a few paces but now you were thrown only ever closer to him. His hands flexed on your hips as you tried to upright yourself again. Your face grew hot and you were pretty sure that you were close enough to smell him now. But your thoughts were washed away when you saw something incredible.

The pot was _moving_ , swaying on the long rope it had been tied to.

You could hardly believe your eyes as you turned to him, enthusiasm washing over you. “I did it. Did you see that? I did it!”, you exclaimed giddily grinning up at him.

The Mandalorian simply nodded, “You did,” he used his hold on your hips to turn you around again, pulling you until you were, once again, touching his chest, “Now do it again. We are doing it until I am satisfied.”

It took forever.

You shot, again and again, sometimes hitting dead centre and sometimes not even close to the target. But you got better.

Din did not leave his place behind you. He would occasionally adjust your hold on the blaster or your stance but he was always right behind you, hands hovering above your hips. By the time you were consistently hitting the targets, you were the only one left to practice, but Din would not let go. Barricades were built around you, holes were dug deeper and the sun continued its journey through the sky and Din would not leave your side, not once.

You grew more and more comfortable with the weapon in your hands but also with him being so close. Now that you were distracted, your body allowed itself to relax against him almost, not constantly worrying about what his close proximity meant.

Sometime later he took a step back from you, now only watching as you shot. You would be lying if you said that you did not miss his touch but it also meant that you got better so you would focus on that.

When he finally moved, the pot was already blackened from the many hits. You doubted that it could be reused again. “That should be enough,” he went on, “We should get back to the others. The sun is already low.”

Silently you nodded, happy that you had not been an utter disappointment and feeling slightly more confident concerning the nearing fight.

*

Nightfall came quicker than you had anticipated. You had spent the remainder of the day digging the holes for the AT-ST and helping to usher the children into one of the huts furthest from the battlefield. Your arms were sore from the extensive blaster training and the digging had only worsened the dull ache in your muscles. At the same time, your body was vibrating with energy, readying itself for battle – physically and mentally.

Your thoughts were like one of those flying bullets from the Mandalorian. They bounced around your head a few times, too quick to be caught, before disappearing again, leaving you disoriented and insecure. What if you were not good enough? What if people were going to die? What if Din or Cara got hurt? What if one of the children got hurt?

You took a steadying breath. The blaster felt heavy in your hand as you were standing outside the barn, just watching and waiting for anything to happen. You were not ready yet to take your position by the barricades. If you did, it meant that all of this was real. That it was really happening and that you were going to _fight_.

A few huts over, you could see how Din talked to Omera. _Probably just preparations_ , you tried to reassure yourself. But the way they stood by each other, how she intimately touched his hand, how worried she looked up at him, told a very different story. And Din did not seem to be too opposed to her advances and it hurt you more than the fear of battle ever could.

Annoyed at yourself for thinking this way you looked down at your blaster, making sure it was loaded like Cara had shown you just a few hours earlier.

(Omera was nice. She was a good woman. Din deserved happiness and if he found it with her instead of you that was none of your kriffing business. _Just keep it together._ )

Their conversation must have ended because you could see Din walking away from her. Cara was waiting by the gates of the barricades and you wondered if you should tell him goodbye. It felt wrong, just letting him leave like that when everything in you screamed to tell him.

But instead of making his way to Cara who was patiently waiting, he made a beeline towards you. Your heart stopped for a second before starting to race in your chest. You tried to straighten your posture, to not let your nervousness show but you were pretty sure that the Mandalorian saw through you like he always did.

He came to stand before you, rifle slung across his shoulders and hands resting on his belt. He looked more intimidating than ever and you were not sure if it was just the fact that he would leave for battle any moment or because you were so nervous to be so close to him now. “Are you ready, princess?”

You swallowed and nodded slightly, your hands shifting around the blaster in your hands, “I think so.”

He remained silent for a second, mustering you up behind that helmet of his, you were sure. “Do you know where Cara put you?”

You nodded again and gestured behind him to one of the wooden structures, “Yes, by the barricade over there.”

He followed your arms and nodded shortly. Then he turned back to you and if possible, his gaze became even more intense. “Good. Now make sure that it’s loaded when we leave. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, stick to what Cara and I taught you,” his hands hesitated before they touched your wrists, fingers enveloping them completely, “I – I want you safe, understood?”

With wide eyes, you looked at him. Was he worried for you? You looked around to make sure that one else was close enough to hear you. “Din,” his name felt familiar and safe on your tongue and you looked at where his hands still rested on yours. There were so many things you wanted to say. Was this now the right moment to tell him? How much you admired him? How much you wanted to be with him, how much you _loved_ him? But Omera popped up in your mind, so you bit your tongue, “just … be safe, alright?”

His shoulders deflated a bit. You were too nervous to think about what that meant. Disappointment maybe? But in what? Or was he just relieved to finally get going? Was his blood pumping in his veins like yours? He nodded his head once and then joined Cara and disappeared into the woods. Seeing them leave led the farmers to assume their positions, weapons in hand. Following their example, you got to your spot behind the barricade, waiting for the moment when Din and Cara would come back bursting through the forest, raiders on their heels.

*

Din heaved himself out of the water, Cara next to him, a breathless laugh escaping her.

The plan was crazy enough that it had actually worked. They had brought down a kriffing AT-ST and all of that with only a handful of people, not a lot of skill but much more determination than he had ever encountered. The cheers of the farmers sounded like music to his ears – but the one he had his focus on was not a villager at all. He spotted you first, a wide grin on your face and unharmed. His heart felt lighter at the realization and he allowed himself to just rest a moment.

Dead raiders were lying around, some farmers already starting to dispose of the bodies. For a village that had not seen a lot of violence in its day, they were a lot less squeamish than he would have assumed.

One of the Klatooninians had not yet gone down, however, and instead of staying down of surrendering, he got up again.

The straggler made a run for it, battle cry bellowing from his mouth. The villagers cried in fear, caught off guard by the sudden threat. Din’s heart stood still when he realized that the straggler was making his way away from the village cutting down anyone that was standing in his way.

You were there, looking so unsuspecting, grinning at something a farmer had said at you and then there was only a blur.

Din heard a scream, a splash and you disappeared.

He was still lying on the ground, desperately trying to get up and _get to you_. The farmer you had spoken to did not hesitate to pull the trigger, the raider falling to the floor with a thump. Din ran up the last bit to the pond where you had just stood, eyes flicking back and forth in the darkness to see where you had fallen. Adrenalin was pumping through his veins, heart thumping loudly in his ears and only one question on his mind. Where were you?

“The pond!”, Cara called from somewhere, “She must have fallen into the pond.”

Before he knew what he was doing the water was up to his hips, his arm plunging into the liquid darkness. He felt something soft in his hand and moments later he hauled you up to land by your shirt. There was a gash on your forehead that was still bleeding into your hair. You were unconscious but your chest was still warm.

“Hey, princess,” he mumbled desperately, hands touching your cheeks, “Can you hear me?”

He got no answer and where his heart had felt light and airy before, it was now a stone in his stomach. Cara was standing behind him, he could hear her arguing with one of the farmers. But it did not sound real, more like he was hearing her through tons of cotton.

He cradled your upper body on his lap, pulling you closer and watching for any sign of life. Your body tried to take a deep breath, a wet cough wrecking your body. Gently he turned you to your side and water heaved out of you in violent bursts. It took a while but soon you took a rasping breath and his heart felt like it was flying. You were alive, _thank the maker you were alive_.

Cautiously he picked you up, making sure to have you as close as possible. Cara ushered the farmers away from you that now wanted to congratulate the heroes of the hour, not yet realizing that something was wrong with you. “Let her breathe, let her breathe.”

The barn was already in his view when you started moving on your own.

“Did you see me?” you mumbled against his chest, triumphant smile on your lips, your eyes unseeing and half-closed, “I did it, Din. I did it.”

The pride in your voice broke his heart and he shifted you in his arms so you were closer to him.

“I saw you, princess,” he whispered back at you, “I always see you.”


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this was inspired by “Everything I Wanted” written by @dindjarindiaries on tumblr. If you haven’t already, check it out, it’s a really wonderful read! As always, feedback, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

The first thing you perceived was the golden sunlight filtering through the roof of the barn.

Some dust particles were flying through the room, looking like little glow worms. Did this planet even have glow worms? If it did, perhaps you could convince Din to search for some. The little one would surely enjoy seeing them glow in the twilight of the forests. Now that the raiders were gone –

You startled under the blankets. The battle! How could you have forgotten?

You remembered the blaster fire and the looming AT-ST in the dark. You remembered how Cara and Din had manged to take it down. How the raiders had subsequently fled the village, the farmers bursting out in celebrations. You remembered talking to one of them, how elated you had felt that you had survived your first fight, that you had held your own.

But something had happened, you just could not quite remember what it was. Din had held you close, had called you _princess_ like he always did, your brain tried to remind you. All of it was a bit hazy and after the feeling of his arms around you (Had you dreamt that? Had it really happened?) there was only blackness.

There was the sound of children playing in the distance, villagers talking and the splashing from the ponds far away. Your heart got a bit lighter at hearing their carefree chatter – that meant they were safe, that the plan really had worked.

A strange weight on your belly made you look up. Confused you blinked the sleep from your eyes just to be faced with a very excited green child, grinning toothily at you.

“Hello there, little one, where did you come from?”, you grinned at him.

His tiny arms stretched around your middle and tears were collecting in the corners of your eyes as you realized that he was hugging you. The child was _hugging_ you and it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen. And if the little one was here, the Mandalorian would not be too far behind.

Curiously you looked around the barn, trying to see if you and the child were alone. You did not have to do more than turn your head to the side to recognize that you were, in fact, not alone. The chair that had previously stood by the table had been pulled to the side of your bed. There was a dark figure slumped in it, not moving. It was Din. He had taken his armour off, except for the helmet of course and you spotted the glinting pieces of metal on the table.

Din still did not move. He was probably sleeping. The way his head was leaning on his shoulder bared one side of his neck, and with his shirt having shifted down during the night, a tiny sliver of tanned skin peeked through and you felt your cheeks warm at the sight. Such baring of skin was hardly scandalous, not her eon Sorgan nor in your home culture, but considering that it was Din – the man who only so rarely let himself relax anywhere, who rarely (if ever) took off his gloves to reveal skin – made it feel all the more like a forbidden sight.

And because his skin was such a rare sight you immediately noticed that he had taken his gloves off as well. One hand was casually laying on his thigh, the other was on your blanket, as if he had held your hand. Slowly, as to not startle him, you brushed your fingers over his bare skin. Had he really been sitting here all this time? Did he care about you that much?

“You are awake.”

His voice was gruff and deep from sleep, even the helmet could not hide that. Your hand stilled but did not move away from his skin. You craved his touch too much and this was one of the few opportunities to indulge yourself for however long he would allow. He shifted in the chair, straightening his posture, cracking his neck but he did not move his hand from under yours.

“What happened?”

“One of the stragglers put you out,” he explained shortly, “you fell into the pond, might have a concussion, but we could not be sure.”

Faintly you remembered the feeling of the cold water on your skin. How things had gotten kind of blurry and dark. But waking up here in the barn, safe and sound, was showing that the plan had worked. Cara and Din had gotten the job done.

“And now?”

His hand turned around, palm facing up, and he tangled his fingers in yours. Your heart skipped a beat and decided that this was way more exciting than any stupid blaster fight. “Now this place is safe and we stay here,” he mumbled and leant forward, nearer to you.

You chuckled and brushed over the fuzzy hair on the child’s head, “Good, I like it.”

The child agreed with an excited trill. Din remained silent, simply staring at you for a while. It was not an uncomfortable feeling, laying there, one of your hand in Din’s the other on the child that had come to be so important to you. It was so soothing and even though you had just woken up, you felt your eyes close again, just dozing off in the warm sun. Din’s thumb had started drawing patterns on your skin and right before you dozed off again you heard him speak.

“I saw you out there, princess,” he whispered to you, “You did good.”

*

The sun was high in the sky, brightening up everything around them and Din was the most carefree he had been for a long time. The battle and its aftermath were now stories of the past and the village had completely recovered from what had happened only a few weeks before. The dead had been buried, the wounded had been healed and now he had allowed himself to relax into the safety that this backwater planet offered.

Standing on the porch next to Cara he marvelled at how this boring planet had revealed itself as the sanctuary that he had hoped for. The woman next to him, a few weeks ago a stranger, now a friend, had put her feet up kept sipping on her spotchka – the pure picture of relaxation. The sun was slowly setting over the village but the bustle had not yet slowed down. Children were playing everywhere – he was thankful for the helmet hiding his fond gaze towards his child – their laughter echoing around the whole area.

Omera had just left them, he could still see her silhouette over by the ponds. She was walking towards some of the farmers that were in the process of teaching you how to harvest krill. The dark-haired woman joined you, laughing with you as she showed you how to properly get a hold of them. His observations did not seem to go unnoticed as Cara motioned her head towards the woman.

“Want to tell me what’s going on between you and her?”

“Nothing.”

Cara scoffed, “I don’t mean the widow, idiot. I mean her,” she made another motion in the same direction, “your _princess_.”

The mocking in her voice made him tense, shooting her a dark look. You were nothing to mock about. Not to him, at least. He had tried to mock you, the first time he had ever seen you, with your wide eyes and genuine smile on your lips. But the insult he had attempted only grew into a soft pet name he could not seem to get rid of, not that he wanted to. And that was what you had been all this time to him. Not a literal princess but the feeling of seeing you for the first time, every time.

You had joked with him that pet names meant he had grown soft on the child. And you were right. But he had not been ready to acknowledge that he had grown soft for you as well.

The sun was making your hair shine and you laughed as some krill escaped your basket. Now there was no denying the way his heart thrummed when he saw you. He _had_ grown soft for you.

And in this softness more tender feelings had bloomed up, stretching towards the warmth that you made him feel.

“There is nothing going between me and her.” _And there probably never will._

He tried to ignore the little sting in his heart at the thought.

“Sure looked different to me when you would not leave her bedside for one second.”

“She needed me.”

“She was _unconscious_.”

Din stayed silent. His point still valid. You _had_ needed him. Or perhaps he had needed you? At this point this was one and the same.

*

The next few days passed in harmony.

Having recovered from your light injury you were happy to get right back into the action. Some of the farmers had taken it upon themselves to teach you how to harvest krill and while you would never become an expert, it was fun to finally _do_ something with your hands. And if you were not helping out with the work, then you were playing with the child, making sure that he did not eat the whole frog population and telling the children some stories.

Apart form the raiders the village really was in the middle of nowhere and therefore, never got any visitors. It was like its own little bubble, your own slice of paradise, and for the first time in weeks you felt utterly carefree. By the maker, even _Din_ was slowly relaxing, only carrying one blaster with him instead of the assortment of weapons that were usually hidden in his armour somewhere.

Omera talked to him more often which, to be quite honest, bummed you out more than it should. After all, she was friendly to you too, a good woman and extremely intelligent with her heart in the right place but you just could not help yourself.

You could have imagined that it had meant something that Din had waited by your bedside for you to wake up. That it had meant something when he would bring your meals to the barn, making sure that you ate and drank enough, when you were still too weak to leave the bed. That it had meant something when, for the first few nights, he would still sit on the chair by your bed, wanting to make sure that you were alright.

But seeing him talk to Omera like that, hands gesturing more than usual, it occurred to you that maybe you were wrong? Maybe this was just hopeful imagination on your part?

“And have you met your prince yet?”

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts and pull your gaze away from the object of your affections and the object of _his_ affections. You were kneeling on the ground, skirt spread around you, and the child and its friends were sitting around you, looking up at you with curious eyes.

Ah yes, you had been telling them a story, one from your home planet that was your favourite as a child. It was about a princess in a tower, being saved by a knight from the monsters around her.

And, as children do, they had recognized that you were called princess too, sometimes and by some people. Well, one person only, really.

“A princess always meets her princes, doesn’t she?”, Sala asked, her head tilted to the side, “And then they love each other and they are happy.”

 _If only it would be that easy_ , you wanted to say, _if only happiness could be found as simply as the ending to a legend._

“Oh well, a princess doesn’t always meet a prince, you know?” you tried to reign in her enthusiasm but clearly you were failing. With her head still tilted to the side, the other children also looked at you as if you were trying to sell them that the sun only shone at night. And they would be right. Had you not been telling them stories of princesses and princes? And had they not always found their happy end?

“Sometime she meets,” involuntarily your eyes fell to Din, helping one of the farmers stem a log for new hut in place, beskar shining in the light, “sometimes she meets a knight.”

You hoped that this would satisfy their curiosity, wanting to change the topic to something safer, something that was less likely to dig into your own hidden feelings. But fate did not want to favour you today, it seemed. Winta turned around, following your gaze and spotting the Mandalorian as well.

“A knight wears armour, right?” she asked despite knowing the answer, an excited look on her face as she turned back to face you, “Does that mean that Mando is your knight, then? He wears a shiny armour!”

“W-What?”

But it was too late already. Having helped the farmer, Din made its way back to … well you were not sure where he was going. What you were sure of, however, was that Winta’s waving hands and loud voice made him stop in his tracks and walk towards you instead. “Mando! Mando! Are you a knight?”

“’m not a knight, I’m a Mandalorian,” he responded and chuckled when he saw the crestfallen faces of the children around him, “Why does that sadden you so, huh?”

“Because if you are not a knight then that mean Y/N is still alone!”

Oh maker. _Oh maker_.

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks and as Mando whipped his head around to look at you, you lowered your gaze to the floor. Was Sorgan known for earthquakes? You could really use a crack in the ground to swallow you up whole, right about now.

Din seemed to be intrigued by the children’s dilemma. He went from crouching to kneeling on the sandy ground, pulling a giggling Winta on his knee, “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain that to me.”

“Y/N is a princess and she doesn’t want a prince, she wants a knight,” Winta explained happily and you wished she would just _stop_ talking, “And now we have to find her one so she won’t be alone.”

The children around you nodded like it was a known fact and you wondered when it had been decided that they needed to find a companion for you. Did you seem that lonely? Was it just children’s logic? What would Din think? That you had convinced a bunch of children into making him kiss you based on some stupid stories?

“Does the princess feel alone?”

Confused, you looked up at him. “I – uh, what?”

His head tilted to the sight, an amused tone to his voice, “Does the princess feel alone?”

Was he … was he teasing you? Oh Maker, you were not ready for how intense his gaze could be. And here he was. Kneeling on the ground with Winta on one of his knees, a sight of domesticity, but so undoubtedly staring at you, you felt like prey.

“Of course, she feels alone!”, one of the other girls exclaimed, clearly annoyed that the adults of the group did not seem to understand anything, “A princess needs a kiss! And then she can be free and is saved!”

You watched in fascination as the bounty hunter’s shoulders suddenly dropped. “Well a kiss is not something I can give, no matter how much I wanted to,” he muttered and rose to his feet, walking away without saying so much as a goodbye.

Perplexed you looked after him, slowly registering his words. Had – Had he just said that he wanted to kiss you?!

*

The fire was burning hot, sending bright sparks into the night air. Cara was telling some stories and you enjoyed hearing from her past adventures. Instead of following her wild gestures, however, you were looking into the bright flames before you, still distracted by Din’s words from a few days prior.

The next time you had seen him, he had not really acknowledged what he had said, making you doubt yourself and pondering over his words each waking moment. What had he meant by them? Did he want to kiss you but couldn’t? Or did he mean that even if he _did_ want to kiss you (which he didn’t) he couldn’t?

From somewhere, a few people got their instruments, round things with strings attached that you had never once seen anywhere else. The sounds that came from them were lively and happy and otherworldly. People started dancing around in circles, laughter and clapping echoing into the night air. Some of the older kids (not quite adults but not quite children any more either) started dancing in pairs, a lively dance around the fire and with a big smile you watched the steps and twirls and laughter. It occurred to you that these people had probably never known anything else. This was their life – the happiness, the dancing, the community – and you envied them for it.

Across from you, partially obscured by the high flames, Din was sitting with a few of the other farmers. This was a real sign of how relaxed he felt here, that he was sitting voluntarily with other people than his group. The child was playing somewhere with the other children. He was having a sleepover today at Winta’s which had taken a lot of convincing by Omera because while the Mandalorian might feel safe, Din was still an overprotective dad who had as much separation anxiety as his child. You teased him endlessly about it until he had called you princess in this _voice_ of his and your face was too hot to say anything more.

As Cara continued to tell her stories, now having gathered a small audience, you pondered if you could go over to him. It would only take a few steps and then you could spend a few minutes with him, making light conversation like everyone else around the fire. But did you really have the courage to do that? Friends did such things, right? But you did not want to be his friend and it felt like it would bare your affection to everyone present if you just went over there. It would so … so forward.

As you watched the fire, your gaze met Din’s. Had he noticed you staring? The farmer next to him kept talking and occasionally the bounty hunter would nod, but his visor did not move from your direction. And even though you did not – _could_ not – see his eyes, you were sure that he was looking right at you. Into your very soul. And there was no way you could pull your gaze away from him now. He had captured you, body, mind, and soul, and you had made your peace with the fact that your heart would be forever lost.

So why could you not bring yourself to go over to him?

Your decision, in the end, was made for you. Before you could so much as move a muscle, you saw how Omera approached the bounty hunter from her side of the fire. With a gentle smile and kind eyes, she held her hand out to him. There was no need to hear her talk to know that she was asking him to dance. Your heart hurt at the sight and you tried to focus on Cara’s story to no avail. Even as the visual connection between you and Din was broken, you could not take your eyes off him. So, when you saw how he shook his head, refusing the offer by the woman he so obviously admired, you frowned. Why would he not want to dance with her?

Your brain, no matter how hard you tried, could not come up with a plausible explanation for his refusal, except for one: What if he _couldn’t_ dance?

The thought had not left you when you and Din returned to the barn in the dark. The little feast was still going on but you were tired and even Cara’s attempts at entertaining you could not distract you from the fact how close Omera had sat to him, how her hands had touched his knees. You were even more surprised, then, that when you stood up and said your goodnights to the remaining farmers, Din had followed immediately.

You were just getting ready for bed, unfolding the blanket on your little cot, when the question blurted out without any filter, “Do Mandalorians dance?”

You could hear how Din on his side of the barn, stopped his movements. “What kind of question is that?” his tone was cautious, curious almost, but with a definitive edge to it.

Oh no, now you had offended him. Your cheeks were burning, clearly showing your embarrassment, and you cursed yourself and all the stars you stood under for potentially ruining his good mood. You mumbled, “It’s just that you always seem so closed off. Your culture is based on war I was just wondering if – “

“There is no rule against dancing if that is what you are asking.”

“So, you _have_ danced before?”

No answer.

Gathering the courage that you had previously lacked, you took a deep breath and turned around. You ignored the way your hand trembled as you held it out to him, “Would you like to dance?”

“What?”

“Well, clearly you have no idea how to dance and next time Omera asks you, you should be prepared, right?”

“Why would Omera ask me to dance?”

“Well because she likes you of course.”

“I don’t want to dance with Omera.”

If possible, your embarrassment worsened, making you almost feel sick. The rejection was clear. He did not want to learn how to dance. Who were _you_ think that you could teach him how to dance? Why had the ground below you not yet opened you up and swallowed you whole? The lava at its core would at least match the heat on your cheeks.

“Oh well then, I’ll just – if you would excuse, me-“, your hand dropped to your side as you tried to make your way out the door again. Fresh air would surely help. And even if it did not, it would still put some distance between you and Din, something that you could use right about now.

“I want to dance with you.”

You stopped.

Your heart was beating in your chest so loudly you were sure that you had just misheard. That your longing was so pathetically strong for him that your imagination worked to keep you happy. To even have only for a sliver of a moment the feeling that he might actually have said that. But then you heard him shift and you knew. You knew you hadn’t imagined it. So, you turned around.

Facing him felt worse than facing one of Kuiil’s angry blurrgs. The barn was mostly dark expect for the moonlight shining through the roof and the campfire still casting its light through the thin walls. He was standing on the other side, beskar glinting, and was slowly walking towards you. Again, you felt like his prey. Like he was chasing you. His gaze pinned you to where you stood and even if you had wanted to you could not move. It was like the moment at the fire all over again but now you were alone and there was nothing between you.

When he came to stand before you, so close it felt like you could not take a breath without breathing him in, it occurred to you just how tall he was. Tall and broad and strong. He was a warrior, a hunter, and sometimes you forgot how deadly he was to his enemies because he was always so gentle with you and the child. He held out his hand just like you had a few moments ago.

“I want to dance with you, princess,” he repeated softly, “Do you want to dance with me?”

Words refused to form in your mouth. Your throat was suddenly dry and your heart beat so hard you felt it in your throat. You managed to nod your head weakly in response, raising your hand to his and hoping, praying, that he would not notice the slight tremble in your fingers. Slowly you guided his hands to where they needed to be, one on your waist, the other holding your hand. His hands were large and warm, even through the leather of his gloves. When he was in the right position, you settled your hand on top of his shoulder, looking up at him.

The music from outside floated into the barn, accompanied by the faint laughter and talk of the people.

“And now?”

If you were not so nervous you would have laughed at how absurd this situation was. But now, in the dim light being held so close by him, you could not find anything absurd at all.

“Now we just kind of move to the music,” you tried to explain, your voice high from nerves, “Sometimes there are specific steps but I don’t know this one so well just have to … move along to the music.”

Din nodded silently in affirmation. To your surprise it was him that made the first step. He hesitantly started moving from side to side, taking tiny steps. At first, he was a bit stiff, his steps more mechanical than anything else, but soon he started swaying you around the room as if he had never done anything else in his life. He was a good lead, you thought to yourself, as his arms encased you and his movements slowed in the middle of the barn.

You thought he would let you go now, deeming the lesson in which you had taught him basically nothing, finished. But again, he surprised you, his hands did not move from your form as he simply rocked you from side to side on the same spot. There was very little movement and actual steps involved but he held you close and you enjoyed it.

As time passed and you grew surer that he would not suddenly up and leave at any moment, you allowed yourself to rest your cheek on his chest plate, the metal warming under your skin. With your one hand still on his shoulder and his around your waist, he moved your other hand to lay right next to your face, holding it to his chest. You swore you could feel the edge of his helmet resting on your head. The swaying motions slowed until you were just standing there in the middle of the barn in each other’s arms.

You wished it could stay like this forever.

*

When the shot rang you were inside the barn, tidying up the mess the child had made this morning while you and Din still had been sleeping. It had been a calm few days and a calm morning as well. You had treated yourself to sleep in a little, still lounging in bed as the Mandalorian had fed the child. The morning sun had warmed you from the inside out and even Din had seemed to be in a good mood. He had left the hut with the child to talk to Omera, which explained his good mood and your downcast one as the hours progressed.

You had left the barn only briefly to ensure that your help was not needed anywhere else. The krill farming was going as strong as ever and when you had talked to Stoke about the state of things, you had spotted Din and Omera as well. They were a bit to the side, away from the action and from hearing ears. Seeing them so intimately talking, her hands on his armour, you had rushed back into the barn, determined to distract yourself from the ugly feelings inside your heart.

 _Omera is a good woman_ , you tried to remind yourself, _she has been nothing but kind to you_.

You were not entitled to his feelings, to his love. Din was his own man with his own feelings. He loved Omera and you had to accept that no matter how much it hurt. You had barely noticed the tears streaming down your face as you folded the blankets on your cot, too distracted by your inner turmoil to care about the sobs wrecking from your chest.

And that was when the shot rang.

Immediately alarmed – had the shot been meant for Din or the child? Had it only been an accident from one of Din’s weapons? – you ran outside to see if your worries were unfounded.

Unfortunately, they were not.

Omera was running towards the children, eyes wide with fear. Many of the villagers were in uproar as well, fleeing from the sound. Din and Cara were nowhere to see and you only calmed down a little when you spotted the green child with his new friends. The dark-haired woman was ushering them inside. Before she could do anything, you had snatched your child up in your arms. He was unharmed, thank the maker, but clearly upset, knowing that something was going terribly, terribly wrong.

“Where is he?”, your blood was rushing in your ears, panic in your voice.

She looked up at you, obviously recognizing that you were not to be trifled with. “He went looking to where the host came from,” she recalled, “We … we were just talking and then the shot came.”

You nodded, trying to process the new information. You lifted the child up into your arms, its large ears drooping and wide eyes blinking at you worriedly. Din was a grown man, a bounty hunter, he was able to protect himself, the child on the other hand …

Hastily you looked around, trying to see if there were any other bounty hunters in sight. What had Din always told you to do in case something like this happened?

“ _Seek shelter, get the weapons, do_ not _wait for me, do not turn around, no matter what you hear. Get into the Razor Crest engage ground security protocols and do not open the ship for anyone else but me._ ”

The Razor Crest was too far ways but you could do the other steps. Without saying another word to Omera you gathered the child closer to your chest and tried to cover him as best as you could. You practically ran into the barn, making sure to stay away from the door and the windows. He always kept a few more blasters at hand, probably for scenarios like this, and you were never more grateful.

With a trembling hand you snatched one of the blasters from the bed and sat down in one of the corners of the barn, furthest away from any entry points. If a bounty hunter tried to take the child, you would just have to shoot them or at least immobilize them. The thought made you queasy. Sure, you had held your own in the fight against the raiders but this felt somehow different. You had never actively planned to wound someone, to kill someone.

And so, you waited.

It felt like seconds dragged into hours dragged into eternities. The child began fussing, wanting to squirm out of your arms and go outside, probably looking for its father.

You had barely gotten the child to calm down when Din stormed into the barn. He was in a bad mood, you could tell. The way he had almost ripped the curtain from the doorway, how his feet stomped on the ground, his whole body was screaming tension. He did not slow down until he had crossed the whole barn, passing you in the process, and started gathering things on his cot.

Your knees ached from sitting for so long but you stumbled up to him still.

“What was it?”, you wanted to know, “Are you alright?”

Din did not acknowledge you, reassembling a blaster quicker than you had ever seen. His movements were harsh, the metal clanking against each other as he pushed them together with force. “We need to leave,” he gritted out, his back still to you.

The sentence should not have surprised you as it did. Clearly, there had been a threat to the child which meant that you had been discovered. It would be impossible now to lead the peaceful life you had enjoyed these past few weeks. Never mind the fact that you would put the village you only just freed from terror into danger again.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to sound reassuring as the Mandalorian’s feelings unravelled before you, “Okay, we can do that.”

He did not react. The man continued to pack up the things on the table hastily, his movements rough and aggressive, clearly an outlet for his frustration. When one crate simply would not budge, a frustrated groan escaped him, too loud in the small barn. With a fling of his arm, he threw the piece of metal away from himself, the metal crashing against the wall and falling to the floor with a sad clank. The child exclaimed in fear, ears twitching with worry and you yourself could not help the way your body recoiled from the sound.

The silence was deafening.

The bounty hunter sighed and let himself fall on the chair. His shoulder dropped forward as he rested his forearm son his knees. He looked … defeated. You watched as he looked towards the floor, clearly full of regret. “I am sorry,” his voice was sincere but he did not raise his face again, “I did not mean to scare you. Family should neither be harmed nor scared and I – I failed you.”

Slowly, you approached him.

“Din, look at me.”

He did. His helmet lifted ever so slightly, the black T-Visor now facing you. “We can do that, alright?”, you tried to assure him, the child still in your arms, “We can leave, we will just … we will just make sure everything is packed up tightly and then we can go, okay?”

You were sure by now that the desperation rang clear in your voice – the fear. Sorgan was supposed to be your sanctuary – your home – for just a little while longer. Now it felt as if everything was breaking apart once more. The man in front of you did not say anything as you came to a stop before him.

As if of their own accord, his knees had parted and you stood in between his legs, as close as you could without being inappropriate. He was looking up at you now, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. It was showing just how stressed out he was. How he felt the same panic you did, the same fear. You had never seen him vulnerable like this.

“Din, hey,” you bounced the child on your hip now, trying to prove your point, “He’s okay, he’s unharmed, we’re alright. We are alright.”

The words sunk in for a moment and then he moved. In an affectionate gesture he wrapped an arm around you, his hand on your back pulling you closer. His helmet sank against your stomach and you wished you could bury your hand in his hair. Instead, you settled the hand not holding the child on his neck, where you knew the shirt was at its softest. Where there might be a chance that he felt the heat of your skin.

“We are alright.”, he echoed, a deep breath leaving his chest and you could see how his shoulders, while still tense, had relaxed a little, “You are alright.”

You remained like this for quite a while, the Mandalorian resting against you, his breathing slowing to a normal pace from how you could see his shoulders move. It reminded you faintly of the night you had danced, how close he had held you then and how close he was holding you now. How things had changed since then. With a grunt he stood up, straightening his shoulders. Gone was the vulnerability from moments before, now there was only determination as he spoke to you.

“Get to packing, princess,” he declared, “We are leaving as soon as possible.”

*

You were back on the ship in no time. Stoke had driven the three of you, not minding the long drive if it meant doing a favour for the local hero. Cara had chosen to stay behind and you could not blame her. The bounty hunter had only been after you, not her, and Sorgan had been her home long before you had shown up. Besides, this planet could certainly use someone with her skills in case any stray bounty hunter came looking for trouble.

You would still miss her, though.

You had started unpacking everything as soon as you had been back in the cargo hold. Din was still in a bad mood and the atmosphere was tense at best. He had gone up to the cockpit without another word, leaving you and the kid alone in the cold room. It broke your heart to see how affected he had been by the sudden need for departure.

The child had noticed Din’s unhappiness as well and looked at you questioningly. “I don’t know how to help him, little one,” you whispered as you sat him up on one of the crates, “I wish I could.”

You felt how the ship lurched into hyperspace. By now you were pretty used to the feeling but normally he waited until you and the child were securely seated. Apparently, the need to leave surpassed that now.

You heard the familiar footsteps indicating that soon you would hear him jump down from the ladder into the hold. Without saying a word, he joined you in unpacking everything, putting the reactions back into the kitchenette, fastening the blasters back into his weapon vault.

“I am sorry you had to leave Omera.”

“What?”

“I know you liked her,” you explained evenly, as you put your folded clothes back into the crate that had become your wardrobe on the ship, “Even if you would not admit it.”

You were proud how unaffected you sounded. As if it did not break your heart into a thousand pieces to think about the fact that he had feelings for the pretty widow while you were pining after him. But he was your friend, too. And friends cared about each other.

“I … Princess, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Without looking up from your task, you scoffed, “Come on, Din. I am not stupid, I do have eyes in my head, you know.”

Din had now completely stopped. He just stood there and stared at you, fists clenched by his sides. But you did not take notice of that, of course. You were too busy trying to reign in your own feelings and making sure that you did not accidentally confessed your undying love for him.

“I don’t like Omera,” he voiced slowly, “Not like that.”

Your heart clenched at his words. Perhaps you had misjudged his actions? Perhaps that jealousy had been unfounded? But could it really be? What if he simply denied his feelings because he was so heartbroken over leaving her? As you started to unpack yet another crate full of rations, you heard hear him muttering something under his breath, too quiet for you to hear clearly. “What was that?”

“I said I like you.”

For a moment there was ringing in your ears. It felt like Cara had punched you straight into the chest, forcing all air out of your body. Had he said that? Did you imagine it? Were you so kriffing desperate already that you hallucinated? You turned around, leaning back against one of the crates, lest your legs decided to give out under you.

Din was standing in front of you, feet firmly planted into the ground. He looked more like he was facing a mud horn for battle than actually talking to you. Your vision blurred on the edges, your heart pounding so loudly you forced yourself to focus on things. Just things. His hands clenched and unclenched by his sides, the worn leather hardly making any noises. Was he nervous? He only did this when he was nervous.

“Cara saw it before I did. Before I was ready to admit to myself how much you meant to me,” he continued gently, “But … I like you, princess, more than is appropriate for a friendship.”

“But … you were so sad we had to leave I thought- “

“I was sad because I enjoyed our life there,” he professed, “I was imagining what it would be like … retiring with you and the little one and just living there. It felt like it got ripped away from me before I could even consider it long enough.”

He had imagined _retiring_ with you?

“We – We can still have a life together, you, me and the little one, you know?” you stuttered, ears hot and heart thundering wildly in your chest, “I would, I would like that very much. Having that – with you.”

Instantly, he was before you. His hands framed your face, gently tilting your head up so you would look at him. “Are you sure?”, he asked in a whisper, so reverently it made your chest hurt, “Are you sure, cyar'ika? Because I cannot let you go after that, I am selfish like that.”

He thought that was selfish?! You chuckled. If only he knew how you had yearned for him, how you would never want to let him go either. But now you could tell him. You could tell him because he felt the same. Your fingers went to the place between his shoulder and his neck, brushing over the fabric of his shirt. “I am sure, Din.”

His chest rumbled at the contact, stepping even closer into your space. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones down to your jaw. “Good, now close your eyes, cyar'ika,” he mumbled, “I want to kiss you.”

You laughed and closed your eyes. His hands disappeared from your face but you patiently sat there, your face still tilted to where you suspected him to be.

When you heard the telling hiss of the helmet you smiled.

This was it.

This was home.


End file.
